


One Punch

by valis2



Category: Riptide (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-03
Updated: 2009-11-03
Packaged: 2017-10-07 23:20:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/70306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valis2/pseuds/valis2
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick has to deal with a ghost from his past.  The worst kind.  The living kind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One Punch

**Author's Note:**

> There are references to people and events from Lay Your Hands On Me, but it isn't necessary to have read it to read this.

They're at that bar again, the one Nick likes. Cheap drinks and eyes that know not to pry. Cody lounges in his chair, smoking a good cigar, watching as Nick knocks back a few beers. Smoke curls around the regulars, drifts up to the hazy lights. Cody takes another puff, savoring the taste.

A guy comes near, staring at him, then Nick, then back at him again. Cody can see Nick winding up to something bad when suddenly the stranger says, "Cody? Cody Allen?"

"Yeah?" asks Cody.

"It's John!" He grabs Cody's hand and pumps it up and down. "Damn, I can't believe it!"

"John...?" Cody blinks, confused.

Nick frowns, and then suddenly his face lights up in recognition. He stands up. "Chase? It _is_ you, you sonofabitch!" He surges forward, catching Chase around the torso and nearly picking him up off the ground.

Suddenly it hits Cody, right between the eyes, the heat and the green swirling in his head until he shoves it down again. _Chase._ It's been fourteen years, and Cody can see every single one of them on Chase's face. "Chase? Wow, it's good to see you!" He stands up and gives him a back-slapping hug.

"C'mon, join us!" says Nick, kicking a chair toward him.

"Been a long time," says Chase, sitting down. Nick gestures to the waitress to bring another round.

"It has. Cigar?" There's an extra one in Cody's pocket, and he hands it over, nudging the book of matches toward him on the table. Chase lights it and takes a long draw, closing his eyes. When he reopens them, he grins.

"Talked to any of the old crew?" asks Nick. The waitress drops off their beers and he throws a few bills on her tray.

"Nope." Chase puffs on the cigar. "Except...ran into Joe about five years ago. Runs an auto parts store in Dallas."

"How 'bout that," says Nick. The expression on his face is doesn't change, but Cody can see the distaste clearly in his eyes. Nick and Joe weren't exactly friends.

"So what are you guys doing here in King Harbor?" Chase takes a gulp of beer, and Cody can see a thin, twisting scar on his neck that he doesn't remember from 'Nam.

"We own a detective agency," says Cody.

Chase blinks. "You kidding me?"

"Nope." Nick taps his cigar against the ashtray. "This is our...third year?" He looks across the table at Cody.

"Fourth."

"You're really serious." Chase blinks again, and looks from Nick's face to Cody's and then back. "What, you sit in people's bushes and take pictures and shit?"

"Sometimes," says Nick, and then he cracks up.

"Jealous husbands," says Cody. "Diamond thieves. Horse sperm. Mermaids. All the usual stuff."

Chase looks at him again, brown eyes wide for a moment, and then he cracks up, too. He slaps Nick on the arm, and that one gesture takes Cody back a decade into a muddy foxhole and a poker game played around heat tabs.

Nick takes a sip of his beer. "So what are you doing in King Harbor?"

A shadow crosses Chase's face, and Cody knows what it means. He can see Chase's shabby Army jacket is patched at the elbows, and he's one shower shy of living on the streets. "Working. At the docks," he says, too quickly.

"I talked to Ray," says Nick, putting an elbow on the table casually. "About two years ago. Came here to see his baby sister. You remember, he carried her picture around--"

"Oh yeah," says Chase, grinning. "Then Lenny stole it and stuck it to that water buffalo's ass--"

They're both laughing now, and even Cody is grinning, though he doesn't remember the incident.

Nick drains another glass and motions to the waitress to bring another round. "I still can't believe that guy. Runs out in the mud..."

"Plays grabass with a water buffalo..." Chase takes another deep drag off the cigar before he laughs. The laugh turns into a coughing fit. "Damn. So who you nailin' now?"

"Gorgeous blond," says Nick. "Tall, too. Likes to fish." Cody nearly chokes on his beer.

"Seriously?" Chase gives him a skeptical look.

"Oh, yeah, man, got a rod and everything." Nick's expression gives nothing away. Cody has to hide a grin.

Chase gives Nick a look that's part disbelief, part jealousy. "She got a sister?"

"Nope."

"Next you'll tell me Cody's got someone, too."

Cody tries to look innocent, but before he can say a word, Nick says, "Yep. Hard to believe, I know..." Chase snickers.

"It's not _that_ hard to believe," protests Cody. He takes a sip of his beer. "Didn't you have a sister?"

"Yeah," says Chase, suddenly quiet. "She doesn't talk to me anymore."

An awkward silence haunts the table for a moment, and Cody contemplates his half-full glass of beer, thinking about vets and how being home is sometimes more difficult than being at war.

Chase sits up straighter in his seat. "I remember when this one joined." He angles a thumb in Cody's direction. "Joe just about laughed till he puked when he saw him. Said he was so pretty the jungle itself'd want to get in his shorts."

"Who said the jungle didn't?" Cody grins as Chase roars with laughter.

The waitress drops another round off, and Nick pays again. Chase slams his beer, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his jacket. He leans back, and Cody can hear the unmistakable jingle of dogtag. He shivers. Nick and Chase start trading stories about Lenny. Legendary Lenny. Cody only barely remembers him; he got killed in his second week in-country, but the stories about him persisted and grew, and by the time Cody'd taken the flight home, Lenny was a monumental figure in the camp, a mythic creation of trickery and insanity that walked the line between the ridiculous and the sublime. Somewhere a grad student is probably still studying him, tracing the intricacies of each retelling, charting each unbelievable leap away from the truth with colored markers.

This story is new, and Chase tells it well. Lenny goes into the jungle alone and comes back with a tiger skin, a missing tooth, and a handful of grenade pins. Nick switches to gin and tonic, putting away two while Chase spins the story out to its natural conclusion.

Too bad Cody knows the real conclusion, which was Lenny's throat ripped out by a slug from a scrawny girl's rifle in the middle of the jungle. He remembers the slick, greasy feel of the plastic tarp in his hand as they carted his body back to the dustoff.

Cody's tired and the smoke is bugging him, but Nick's telling a story now. From the warmth of his tone he's having a good time. Cody sighs and stubs out his cigar in the ashtray. The waitress drops off another gin and tonic for Nick, and a whiskey and soda water for Chase. Nick's still paying.

"...and you wouldn't believe it, but that sonofabitch is standing there, grin on his face, with two, count 'em, _two_ bottles of Glenlivet. Twelve year old Glenlivet." He shakes his head admiringly.

"To Lenny," says Chase, toasting Nick.

"Lenny," says Nick, knocking back another one. His eyes are a little glazed. He's past buzzed.

There's an awkward pause while Chase looks at his empty glass. Then his eyes focus on Cody. "They're all gone, y'know," he says, sadly. "Lenny. Steely..."

"Yeah, I know," says Cody softly. He doesn't remember Chase as being a maudlin drunk. Nick is gesturing for the waitress again.

"You orphaned yet?" he asks, his brown eyes suddenly riveted to Cody, his gaze more direct than it should be after a couple whiskeys.

"Orphaned?"

"Your parents still around?"

Cody squirms in his seat a little. "Yeah, my mom's been back on the east coast for a long time. My dad moved to Florida a few years ago."

"My dad died a long time ago," says Chase, fingering the empty glass. "My mom...she just died. Three months ago, yesterday."

"Damn. I'm sorry." A wave of guilt rises in the back of his throat and he swallows against it. He's been meaning to take a trip to see Mom, her new doctor boyfriend, see her new stable, but he keeps putting it off a season at a time.

Chase turns to Nick. "What about you, Nick?"

"My mom died while I was in high school," he says, blue eyes dark in the gloom of the bar. "My dad's still around somewhere. I make it a point not to know where."

Cody's eyebrows nearly crawl into his hair. For as long as he's known him, Nick's always told people that his dad's dead, car accident in Texas. Only at night, when the nightmares grip him, when he's shaking in Cody's arm, does he tell the truth, that his dad left him and his mother when Nick was just eight years old, and that he's only seen him a handful of times since. And one of those times wasn't at his mom's funeral, either.

"Damn. Sounds like my uncle Bob." Chase leans back in his chair. The waitress puts down a few more drinks and leaves. That's another thing Nick likes about the place, Cody knows; the waitresses don't want to talk.

"Your uncle Bob?" prompts Cody, hoping he'll take the bait, and he does, talking about his aunt Phyllis and how she had to kick Uncle Bob out, how he stole gambling money out of her purse. Nick's expression is dark and his eyes darker, and Cody realizes that this might not have been the distraction he was hoping for, especially after Nick flags the waitress down for a shot of whiskey.

"... and the bastard actually stole my cousin's piggy bank." Chase shakes his head in disbelief, but Nick doesn't look at all shocked, just keeps staring at his glass.

Cody racks his brain for a topic that's not loaded with mines. "We just finished a case," he says, taking another sip of beer. "A guy hired us to locate his daughter. Turns out her mother stole her, took her across state lines into California."

"Sounds like a fucked-up divorce," says Chase.

"Worst one we've ever seen," says Cody. "But it had a great ending. We found the daughter and they're reunited now, and the mom's in jail awaiting trial on kidnapping charges."

Nick's expression lightens a little, and he exhales. "They went back to Arizona a few days ago."

"I was in Arizona last year," says Chase with a shudder. "I hate that place."

Cody blinks, uncertain how to react. "Never been there."

"Don't bother."

The waitress drops off two shots of whiskey, and Nick hands her a few bills, looking her in the eyes and giving her a smile. Which means it's his last round. Cody tries not to let the intense relief show on his face.

"I had to do a couple cargo runs to Tucson," says Nick, one hand curling around the shot glass. "Some Hong Kong guy paid me double to get it there quick. Three tons, crated, fresh off a boat."

"Lucky you didn't have to stick around." Chase fingers the scar on his neck absently.

"To not being in Arizona," says Nick, raising his glass. Chase seconds it, and they all clink their glasses together. Chase and Nick knock back their whiskeys in a single swallow, Chase going for the soda water directly after, while Cody takes a last sip of his beer.

"Listen, guys, it's kind of late..." says Cody.

"Yeah, we should get going." Nick stands up, a little unsteady, and Cody has to resist the urge to put out his arm and help him get his balance.

"Good to see you guys," says Chase, with barely concealed emotion. "It's been a helluva year." Cody gives him a quick hug.

"Listen, you call us, we'll get together again," says Nick, giving him a hug, too. Then they're out of the bar, into the fresh night air. Nick stumbles and Cody automatically grabs his arm, steadying him. "Thanks," he whispers.

Neither of them feels like talking on the way home.

* * *

The Alpha Beta parking lot is nearly empty. Once Cody's inside he grabs a basket and pulls the list out of his pocket. Nick's writing always surprises him; it's almost graceful, in a way. He tracks down potatoes and beer and hits the butcher counter for a package of thick steaks.

The checkout goes quickly, and he's out the door again, crumpling up the list and tossing it into a trash can. There's a scruffy guy in an army jacket, and Cody's already thinking panhandler and wondering if he has any spare change to give him when he registers that the guy has a grocery bag and looks like he's leaving as well. He turns and glances at Cody, and then the flash of recognition hits him.

"Chase?" Cody comes closer, shaking his hand. "Hey, what's up?" It's been three months since they'd seen him at the bar, and even though Nick searched the docks a few times, they haven't seen him.

"Nothing." Chase looks worse for the wear, his jacket even grubbier. He obviously hasn't seen hot water for at least two weeks. "Just...uh...heading out of town." Cody can see the tips of a few packages of beef jerky in the grocery bag.

"So soon?" A spike of worry goes through his gut, but he tries to tamp it down.

"Yeah." He grimaces. "Look, I hate to even ask, but..." He trails off, looking ashamed.

Cody reaches for his wallet without thinking, and pulls out all the bills he has left, nearly two hundred dollars that was supposed to buy him a new set of floats for the _Riptide_. "Listen. You need anything, just call."

Chase takes the money, and sighs in relief, shoving it into the stained pocket of his jeans. "Thanks, man. I will." It's a lie and they both know it, and Cody stands there for a moment longer before Chase gives him a sad smile. "Take care."

"I will," promises Cody. Chase turns and leaves, limping a little.

Cody can't stop thinking about him during the drive back, while parking the car, walking down the companionway, putting the groceries away in the galley. He's just stuffing the steaks in the fridge when he suddenly feels hands pulling on him, turning him around.

"Hey, what's wrong?" says Nick, looking worried. "I've said hi five times."

"Sorry." Cody runs a hand through his hair, and then closes the door to the fridge with his foot. "Just...I ran into Chase at Alpha Beta."

Nick's expression changes to one of trepidation. "Was he..."

"He wasn't panhandling," says Cody, feeling his stomach turn. "But damned close. I gave him what I had in my wallet. He said he's leaving town."

Nick swears. "We should have helped him. Should have hired him--"

"We couldn't find him, remember?" Cody steps closer, puts a hand on Nick's arm. "Even Murray couldn't locate him."

"I should have checked out every dock--"

"Nick, stop. He didn't want our help." Cody tries to make his tone soothing, but he can hear the guilt in it nonetheless.

"I just--"

"Anybody aboard?"

They both jump at the sound of a new voice. Cody takes his hand away immediately, and yells back, "C'mon aboard! We'll be right up!" He brightens at the thought of a fresh case, something to distract them both from the sad facts of Chase's existence.

There's something a little familiar about the voice, though. Cody goes up the steps first, coming into the salon just as their new client is coming down the steps from the wheelhouse. He looks familiar, too, though it's in an odd way, as if he's seeing someone he knows but through a strange lens.

Nick comes up behind him. "What the hell are you doing here?" he says in a voice that's almost unrecognizeable; Cody turns to look at him, and Nick's face is angry and frightened. Cody turns back to their visitor, bewildered, and then he takes another look as the guy comes closer. He's in his late fifties, looks like a football player gone to seed, big arms and sloping shoulders, dark brown hair, beer belly.

Then he looks at the guy's face, at his incredibly familiar blue eyes, and it all clicks.

"I asked you what you're doing here." Nick's voice is colder than an Antarctic morning.

"Is that any way to talk to your dad?" The guy grins, taking another step toward them, and Cody can feel the tension radiating from Nick. "It's been awhile, Nicky. Thought we could take spend some time together. Get to know each other better."

Nick doesn't say anything, just stares at him. Like he's waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"I'm Cody Allen," says Cody reaching out with his hand automatically.

"Joe Ryder," he replies, turning toward him, the grin still on his face. It's identical to Nick's, and his handshake is, too, except for the lack of calluses. "You were in the Army with him, right?"

"Yeah, and now we're partners." He can see Nick out of the corner of his eye, tight-lipped. "We run a detective agency with a friend of ours."

"Good way to make money," says Joe. Nick stiffens. "I read an article about Nick last year. Good stuff." His accent sounds vaguely like the east coast, but he's clearly not Italian. "Nice boat."

"Thanks." Cody tries a smile, a little one. Nick just stands there, frozen, wary.

"Elco, isn't it? I knew a guy who used to live on one in Detroit. Crazy sonofabitch. You know how cold it gets there?" He's charismatic, and Cody can't help but want to talk further to the guy. Except he remembers Nick crying in the middle of the night, and that dampens his enthusiasm.

"I asked you what the hell you're doing here." There's a cold knife blade in Nick's tone.

"Nicky, I don't care for your attitude," says Joe, frowning. "I told you already. I want to spend some time together. I missed out on a lot, Nicky."

"You--"

"I know." Joe nods, spreads his hands wide. "I know you did, too. I want to make it up to you."

Cody realizes that this is probably not the sort of thing he should be witnessing. "Look, I'll just give you guys some space..."

"Stay," hisses Nick, still not taking his eyes off Joe.

"C'mon, Nicky." Joe gives him a smile. "We'll go out, get a piece of pie, cup of coffee. Just talk."

"Anything you want to say to me, you say it right now, right here." Nick jabs his finger in the air, punctuating his words.

A little of Joe's charisma evaporates, and Cody sees a flash of familiar mulish stubborness. A hint of anger. "Look, I'll buy, if it's that important." Nick is silent, still glaring.

"Maybe you could come back later, give things some time," says Cody, trying to calm things, invoking peace as best as he can.

"No," says Nick immediately. "Now or never. Say what you came here to say."

Joe pauses, and the air between them is electric. Cody can't quite read him the way he can read Nick, but he can tell that he's calculating, weighing things out in his head, while Nick stares at him. Joe exhales, finally. "I've had a little trouble with someone local," he says quietly. "Just a misunderstanding. I need to get out of town for awhile."

That's it. The other shoe has finally dropped, and some of the tension bleeds away from Nick. "You've been here for at least a year because you read that article," he says. "And you never bothered to see me, not once. Until now that you need money."

"I wanted to." Joe looks sincere. "I really did. Came here a few times, but just..."

"Almost doesn't count," snarls Nick.

Joe's eyes flash. "You try having a kid you don't want," he snarls back. "I tried to be the best father I could. I think I did pretty well, considering."

Cody lays his hand on Nick's arm, feeling sick to his stomach, but Nick doesn't even blink, doesn't react at all, and then Cody realizes that he's probably heard it before, and he feels even sicker. As much as Cody's parents fought, they still loved him and always told him so every chance they got, though not always in the best of ways. Looking back at Joe, he sees his eyes narrow, sees him look at Nick and then at him and then to his hand on Nick's arm. A strange expression flashes on his face, and suddenly Cody knows that Joe has figured out about them.

Before either of them can react, Joe's fist crashes into Nick's temple, and Nick goes down without a word, just time enough for a flicker of surprise. Joe is shouting, furious, veins standing out in his neck. "I didn't raise my son to--"

Cody lashes out with his own fist, catching him in the jaw, rocking him backward. "You didn't raise him at all," growls Cody. "Now get the fuck off my boat!" Joe glares at him for a long moment, his anger palpable in the enclosed space of the salon, blue eyes cold and furious, before turning on his heel and stalking out through the wheelhouse.

"Nick," says Cody, dropping to his knees. Fury ebbs away, leaving him worried. Nick's sprawled on the floor, completely out, and Cody winces at the welt on his temple. "C'mon, baby, c'mon, wake up." He strokes his face gently. He knows he can pick him up if he has to, but still, it'll be easier if he can just get him to wake up. "Please, Nick. C'mon."

Nick stirs a little, lets out a moan. His eyelids flutter and then shut, as if it's too bright. Cody closes the blinds and pulls the table out of the way.

"Cody?" asks Nick, sounding confused, and Cody rushes back to his side. "What..."

"How's your head?" Cody keeps his tone soft.

"Hurts." Nick blinks, then blinks again, and then realization dawns on his face. "Is he..."

"He's gone." Very gently, Cody runs his fingers over the swelling, checking to make certain it's just a bruise. Joe's got a mean right hook, that much is obvious, fast and powerful, just like his son. "C'mon, off the floor." Reaching down, he helps Nick get to his feet, though he's unsteady and almost falls over once he's upright. Cody helps him to the bench seat. "Just stay here. I'll get some ice."

Rushing down to the galley, Cody opens the refridgerator and realizes that they don't have any ice left, but there is a bag of frozen peas. He grabs that and a hand towel, aspirin, a glass of water, plus a blanket, and comes back to find Nick hunched over, head in hands. "Can you--"

Nick looks up and takes the glass of water from his hands, and Cody shakes the bottle of pills until he grabs that, too. "Take two." Nick frowns. "Right now." Nick opens the bottle and swallows two with the water, grimacing.

Putting down the blanket, he wraps the bag of peas in a hand towel and then sits down on the bench, a couple pillows behind his back, a couple pillows on his lap. Nick's rubbing his temple, eyes closed in pain.

"Lie down," says Cody, and Nick turns to look at him, a confused expression on his face until he figures it out. Usually he'd protest or make some sort of sarcastic comment, but he's just hurting too much. It's all over his face. He puts his head down on Cody's chest, lies down between Cody's legs, and Cody covers him with the blanket and lays the bag of peas on his temple. Nick makes a little hiss of pain. "Shh, just relax."

Nick's quiet for a long moment, shifting a little until he's comfortable. Cody knows he should take him to the ER, get him checked out; it's bad to lose consciousness, but he knows that Nick won't want to go, and they've already been through this particular dance before and he doesn't want Nick to sit in a hospital bed all night. Not after what just happened. So he puts his hand under the blanket, running his fingers down Nick's spine, while his other hand gently runs through his hair, comforting the best he can.

He leans over a little bit, looking at Nick's face, and doesn't like the empty expression one bit. "Hey. It's okay. Everything's fine."

"Yeah." Nick is unconvinced. "My old man just tried to scam money out of me, figured out my deepest secret, and punched me out, all in the space of fifteen minutes, and one of my old friends is homeless and probably won't last another month on the street."

Well, this isn't the worst darkness he's seen in Nick, and he knows exactly how to handle it. He puts his left hand inside Nick's shirt, skin to skin, and rubs lightly. "You've got me, and a business, and a best friend who even has an orange robot."

Nick closes his eyes and sighs, and Cody feels the tension slowly begin to give under his hands, feels Nick start to relax.

"How's your head?" asks Cody softly.

"Hurts." Nick shifts again, just a little, wedging his shoulder between the bench seat and Cody's ribs.

"I'm sorry."

"You didn't hit me." Nick tries to stifle the wince.

"Your dad is a jerk." Cody lets his fingers trace one shoulderblade, then the other.

"Roger Ramsdale was a jerk. My dad's an asshole." Nick's hand is on Cody's ribs, and he flexes his fingers. "He's a selfish bastard. As soon as I saw him I knew what he wanted, but then he goes and plays around, acting like he really wants to talk, acting like he really wants to get to know you, too..."

Cody knows that he's perilously close to setting off a landmine or two, but he can't help himself. "You think he wasn't serious about wanting to know you better?"

A long pause. Nick's fingers are still. "Cody..." Nick makes an exasperated noise. "He's a selfish bastard. He only cares about himself. That's it. All of his words add up to one thing, and one thing only, which is him getting what he wants. You heard him--he said that _he_ missed out on a lot while I was growing up. What's it matter what he missed out on? He was out there having a good time. It's what I missed out on--what Mom--" He chokes up, and Cody murmurs calming words, holds him tightly. Nick shudders and closes his eyes.

"We'll go out tomorrow," says Cody. "We'll find Chase and help him, however we can." Nick tries to sit up, and Cody forestalls him. "No. Tonight, we're staying in. You might have gotten away with not going to the hospital, but there's no way in hell I'm letting you off the _Riptide_."

Nick is tense for a moment, but then he exhales and sinks back down into Cody's embrace. "Okay," he says. "Okay."

Cody kisses the top of his head, holds him gently until he falls asleep, ready for the nightmares he knows will visit him.

* * *

Tanya Davidson smiles at them. "Would you like anything? Coffee? I just brewed a fresh pot."

"Sure," says Cody. Nick nods.

"Sugar or cream?"

"Both for me," says Cody.

"Just cream." Nick smiles.

She bustles off to the kitchen, and Nick catches his eye, gives him a sweet smile, and Cody feels warm inside. Tanya returns, a cup in each hand, and Cody takes his and sips. It's quite possibly the worst coffee he's ever tasted, incredibly bitter even with the sugar and cream, and he covers his wince as best as he can. "Thanks for the coffee, Mrs. Davidson."

"I'm so glad that you've resolved the case so quickly," she says earnestly. "What did you find?"

"Our partner Murray Bozinsky located your father, Mrs. Davidson," says Nick, still smiling. "He's living in Hawai'i at the moment, but he's booked a flight to LA for tomorrow."

Tanya looks completely shell-shocked, and then bursts into tears. Cody sits down next to her, offers her a tissue, a shoulder to lean on as she sobs. Linking eyes with Nick, he can see that's he happy for her, but there's also a subtle flash of sadness.

"I'm sorry," she says, finally pushing away from him and dabbing at her eyes. "But it's been thirty years. I never thought I'd see him again. I kept searching, but he's been so difficult to find. I went through so many war records. You have no idea."

"He was looking for you, too," says Nick, his voice soft. "He's been looking since he came home from the war."

"The foster homes I was sent to...it would have taken a miracle for him to find me..." She lets out another sob, covering her mouth. "This is so...overwhelming. Tomorrow, did you say?"

"Yes," says Cody, keeping his arm around her. "We can pick him up, if you like."

"I'd like that," she says. There's a long pause, and Nick picks up his cup and takes a sip, freezing for an instant, blue eyes looking down at it in barely-disguised horror.

"Good coffee, right, Nick?" says Cody, grinning.

"Yeah. Great." Nick puts the cup down on the table, giving him a look.

She's quiet for a moment. "I don't even know what to say to him."

"Just say whatever comes from the heart," encourages Cody. "Don't worry about finding the right words. It'll all just come to you."

"You think so?" she says, looking up at him.

"I see my dad every three or four years, and we just pick right up where we left off," says Cody confidently. "It's like riding a bike. You never really forget how."

"What about you, Nick?" she asks.

There's a pause. For just a moment his eyes are bright with pain, and then it's shuttered away. "My father died a long time ago," he says quietly.

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Tanya looks truly regretful, and Cody can't help but feel a twinge of guilt. She dabs at her eyes with a tissue. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, I think I need to be alone." She stands up and they stand up on cue. "Please call me and let me know when you'll be arriving tomorrow." They follow her to the door, and she stands in the doorway, smiling at them through tears. "Nick, Cody...I can't thank you enough for all you've done. I'm so sorry for your loss, Nick."

Nick murmurs something, thanking her, and Cody gives her a hug before they walk off toward the Jimmy. The afternoon sun is golden, glinting on the leaves of the oak in her front yard. Cody hops in the Jimmy, watches as Nick gets in, still dragging his feet a little. The bruise is fading, but just from the expression on his face, Cody can tell that he has a headache. Nick gets in and slumps back in the seat.

A red light, and then another. Cody leaves the radio off, turns down the next street.

"You think Chase'll be okay?" asks Nick.

Cody looks over at him, worry plain on his face, one hand rubbing his temple. "We did the best we could for him," he says honestly. "The organization--and Chase--will have to do the rest. They'll help him get a job, find an apartment, everything. And Long Beach isn't that far away. We can stop by..."

"Yeah." Nick sounds uncertain.

The pier comes into sight, and Cody smoothly pulls into his spot. "C'mon. I'll make dinner."

Nick nods, following him down the companionway, looking like he's a million miles away. Cody unlocks the wheelhouse doors, and Nick goes down to the salon, hands jammed into the pockets of his slacks.

"Your dad was right about one thing," says Cody casually.

Nick's head jerks around and he stares at him.

"He did miss out on a lot." Cody steps closer, putting one arm around his waist. "He missed out on you." Nick relaxes into his arms, his expression hard to interpret. "You're amazing, Nick, you're one helluva guy and I'm lucky that..." He exhales. "You mean...everything to me."

Nick says nothing, just pulls him close, his breath warm against Cody's neck.

For a long moment Cody holds him, knowing that he's everything he's ever wanted, everything he's ever needed.

Nick's arms tighten around him, and he feels him shiver against his body. "I love you," he says, his tone fierce, and Cody's heart burns from it, from the raw emotion in his voice.

"Love you, too." He presses a gentle kiss to his temple.


End file.
